


If All Else

by blackfin



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Body mutilation, Gore, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackfin/pseuds/blackfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a snap and a snarl, the little doll grows some fangs. Too bad for the captors, too bad for the doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If All Else

If all else fails, there’s always teeth and fingernails, elbows and knees. 

Skin is vulnerable; enough spite behind the bite, teeth are going to sink in deep. Underneath that delicate skin are arteries, veins, just waiting to be popped, ripped open, eviscerated. Eyeballs are just sacks of goo; shove a thumb in there hard enough and POP - like a goddamn cherry tomato in between teeth. If the eyes aren’t available, then scratch. Rip apart inch by inch until they’re nothing but shreds of flesh. Smash an elbow into their guts, their groins, their chest, noses, eyes, anywhere that splendidly pointy part that arm can reach. Even if those bones fucking break, keep hitting. Knees are a bit harder as legs can be pinned down but they make awful good battering rams right into a fucker’s crotch. Slam those plates of bone into someone’s chest and feel their rib-cage cracking underneath your weight.

If all else fails, then be an animal. There’s only so far a man can be pushed before animal instinct takes over. Only so much pain and misery and devastation can be experienced before one exposed neck, one loose binding can lead to teeth sunk deep into a jugular. Enough hate, enough desperation - all it takes is one little snap. And with that snap comes big, empty eyes with pupils nearly taking up the entire iris, hiding that pretty amber color behind the black with just a barely recognizable smidge of madness hiding within those vacant, delirious depths. With that snap comes a widely smiling mouth dripping with blood; white, perfectly aligned teeth bared in what is disconcertingly a vacant smile and a deranged sneer. With that snap comes hands wrapped around a pretty white neck with blonde hair plastered to it with the blood gushing up from the ripped and mangled veins. There isn’t enough strength in those digits to strangle but that hadn’t been the intention. 

The fingers slip into the wounds, ripping the neck open further. That same smile lingers above as blood gushes out to leave a glistening puddle of life goo. It only takes about two minutes for someone to bleed out from a cut jugular but shove some intrusive fingers into the wound, those two minutes are whittled down to less than one. Only so far someone can be pushed. Only so much a man can endure. Sweat, blue hair sticking to a pale, glistening forward and those eyes never change, that smile never breaks. Too far. Too much. This wasn’t the kind of snap expected. This wasn’t a doll, this was a rogue A.I. or possibly even worse. Nothing to lose, nothing to gain. You’d be shocked to find out how far someone will go when there is nothing else. 

It isn’t good enough just to die. Blue eyes pounded into the skull, perfect white teeth broken with each slam of knuckles against thin pink lips; that handsome face, once serene and bespectacled, ends up looking like hamburger meat and that still isn’t good enough. One last breath and there is shrill, shrieking laughter. Sounds like a demon, might as well be a demon. There’s blue, so much blue. And that grin, manufactured, carefully created, a little push here and a little push here. Too bad. He would have made a beautiful doll. 

If all else fails, there is always teeth and fingernails, elbows and knees. Knives, however, are always better. Evisceration, desecration, he cut and cut and cut until not a inch was left that wasn’t scarred. There won’t be an inch of him left once this knife is done. No need to use teeth. Blade goes in so sweet and clean, like Granny slicing through one of her doughnuts. He doesn’t last. Blood against plaid. What a heinous blending of colors. He doesn’t last. Frenzy and blood lust take over. 1, 2, 5, 19, 39, 68, 82, 107, his body might as well be a pin cushion now. He’s gone even quicker than the first. What a shame. Talked so big, hurt so much, couldn’t even take 100+ stab wounds to the stomach, chest, neck, head area. Pity.

It doesn’t stop. It can’t stop. Not until every piece of them has been violated, desecrated, hollowed out and left to rot. Filth. Putrid. Horrendous. Once earning of trust, now not even worth spitting on. He still does, though. Spit, urine, feces, semen, mutilation and humiliation all wrapped up into one. Weak arms, shaking legs, exhaustion stops the violence. Hacking coughs, vomit spewed, tears leaked. 

Reality sets in as silence descends. Oh, what a mess has been made. Push too hard, push too long, insides are going to become outsides and that little doll, tormented and abused, grew fangs as long as a grown man’s forearm. Problem now is that the knowledge of how to sheathe them doesn’t appear to be archived. Nothing left, nothing gained. Might have been better to have just stayed the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I was tired and wanted a write a fic about Aoba just murdering the shit out of ViTri but I also wanted to play around with style / tone so this is what happened. Dunno if its good or if it just sounds pretentious as shit but whatever, I suppose.


End file.
